


Sin'dorei

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Sin'dorei, Kal'dorei [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Delirium, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 17:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16163162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Hunk runs into Keith in an unlikely place.





	Sin'dorei

Hunk really hated the sight of blood. He really, really hated it. It was a good thing the others were there after things went wrong on their last mission, because the amount of blood coming from Keith had been enough to render him completely useless. He’d shrank back when Keith came staggering out of Red, blood smeared all over his armor and leaking through his fingers where he pressed his hand over the wound on his side. It was all he could do to keep his lunch down. 

Luckily Shiro was there, at Keith’s side and hauling him off to the infirmary within the second. Still, the back of his throat burned with guilt (and also probably bile). He hadn’t been able to help in the moment, but now that they were sure Keith was going to be ok, he could at least do something. And that was how he found himself hauling an armload of cleaning supplies towards the Red lion’s hangar. 

His reasoning was simple. There was blood all over the floor, someone had to clean it, and Lance was going to throw a major bitch fit if Coran made him do it. Hunk was already steeling himself for the task ahead. It wasn’t going to pretty, or easy, but he could do this. He had to prove to himself that he wasn’t useless when things went wrong. 

When he walked through the doors to the hangar, he wasn’t expecting to see Keith already there.

The pod had healed Keith’s wound in a few vargas, but it couldn’t replenish fluids, and Coran had warned them that Keith would be woozy from blood loss for most of the night. He’d insisted that Keith go straight to bed and stay there. Shiro was supposed to be watching him. 

And yet here he was, on his hands and knees on the floor of the hangar, still in his rumpled day clothes. 

All Hunk could do was stand there for a second and stare blankly, trying to process what he was seeing. Keith was facing away from him, on the floor, seemingly trying to clean the dried blood up himself. But all he had was a single damp towel, and all he was accomplishing was smearing it around a little. Still he kept scrubbing. His movements were jerky, almost desperate, and the whole scene was honestly freaking Hunk out a little bit.

“Keith?”

The red paladin flinched violently at his voice, hunching his head down between his shoulders and scrubbing at the floor harder. There was something trembling in the air, something fragile and volatile, and Hunk carefully laid his cleaning supplies on the floor before proceeding into the room. Something told him he had to tread carefully.

“Keith.” He said again, more softly as he approached where the other boy knelt on the floor. “What are you doing out of bed?” 

He was close enough now to see that Keith’s skin was pale and clammy, and how his arms trembled. He was still clearly suffering from the effects of his wound, so why was he here trying to clean? 

“Made a mess.” Hunk had to strain to hear Keith’s voice, so quiet even the huge hangar couldn’t make any louder. “Hafta clean it up.”

Hunk finally reached his side and knelt down, carefully not looking at the brown stains Keith was so fixated on. His eyes were huge, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, but he didn’t stop scrubbing, and he didn’t look up at Hunk. 

“Bud,” Hunk began, “Coran said you need to rest. You don’t need to worry about this, I’ll take care of it.”

Keith shook his head, something wild flickering in his eyes. “No, no, I made a mess, I have to clean it up. I have to. Have to.”

“Keith--” Hunk raised a hand to rest it on Keith’s shoulder, only for him to knock it off violently and bend to scrub ever harder at the cold metal floor. 

“No!” He snapped, glaring at the floor and gritting his teeth. “I have to clean up my mess, or I’ll get in trouble. I’ll get in trouble…” His voice trailed off into a mumble as Hunk only got more and more confused. 

“You won’t, it’s not your job to clean, and not when you’re injured. Keith, come on.”

But Keith wasn’t listening to him anymore, and no matter what Hunk said he couldn’t get a reaction out of him beyond more mumbling. After a few more minutes of this, he realized he was out of his depth, and got to his feet. He needed help.

He made his way to Keith’s room, and at least part of the mystery was solved when he found Shiro passed out cold in a chair next to the empty bed. Hunk couldn’t really blame him, it had been a long, tiring day for them all. Despite his exhaustion, he leapt awake the moment Hunk tapped his shoulder. 

“Hunk?” His eyes darted to the bed and widened. “Keith?!”

“It’s ok, he’s not hurt.” Hunk rushed to assure him. Shiro’s shoulders lost a bit of their tension, but he stood anyway, still worried. 

“Where is he? What’s going on? Coran said--”

“He’s in the hangar, trying to clean up the blood.” He took a deep breath to steady his voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I can’t get him to stop.”

Shiro’s expression smoothed into something less scary. It wasn’t void of concern, but he at least seemed calmer, which calmed Hunk in turn.

“Right. I’ll go talk to him.”

Shiro left the room, and not knowing what else to do, Hunk followed.

When they returned to the hangar Keith was still in the same position, still scrubbing, but even from the door they could see his back shaking, and as they drew closer Hunk realized he was crying. Sobbing, even. He didn’t even wait for them to speak first, he just waited until their footsteps came close enough and then opened his mouth. 

“It won’t come off.” He choked, and the hand holding the towel slipped on the floor before he caught himself. Shiro knelt down in front of him while Hunk hovered, and he couldn’t help but notice how Keith wouldn’t look at Shiro either. 

“It won’t come off, I’m sorry, I’m trying, but it won’t come off, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“Keith.” Shiro’s voice was steady and strong, an anchor in a storm, and Hunk latched onto it in an attempt to stay calm. He’d never seen Keith like this. He’d gone up against Zarkon himself with nothing but his lion for fucks sake, only to come undone and tremble like a child in a haunted house all over a blood stain that wouldn’t come off the metal floor. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to clean up. You’re not going to get in trouble.”

Keith didn’t seem to hear him. He just stared at the floor, and his breath caught in his chest. When he spoke it was in a whisper. 

“I’m sorry. Please don’t hit me.” 

Hunk felt the splinters of his heart embedding themselves in his lungs. Shiro’s eyes turned sad, but he didn’t seem surprised. Had Keith asked him this before?

“Nobody is hitting anyone. Ok? You’re not in trouble. Are you hearing me?” 

Keith sniffled, but barely flicked his eyes up at Shiro and nodded. 

“Alright. I want you to put the towel down. You’re hurt and you need to rest.” 

Casting a doubtful look at the rag still clenched in his hand, Keith bit his lip. “But… but I…”

“Do you trust me?”

A reluctant nod in response.

“So trust me when I tell you that you aren’t in trouble, and you don’t have to clean this up, and no one is going to hurt you.”

Keith hesitated a moment longer before his shoulders slumped and his death grip on the rag finally loosened. Shiro drew it gently out of his hand and tossed it to Hunk, who scrambled to catch it as Shiro lifted Keith to his feet. 

“‘M sorry, Shiro.” He muttered, feet dragging as he and Shiro shuffled out of the room. “I broke again.”

“It’s alright, Keith. You’re alright.”

Hunk stood still in the middle of the Red Lion’s hangar, listening as Shiro’s voice retreated down the hall. When he could hear it no longer, he returned to his pile of cleaning supplies.

He spent the rest of the night scrubbing every last drop of blood off of the floor. 

 


End file.
